For Keeps
by StellaGreene
Summary: "A true soulmate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life."- Elizabeth Gilbert After Ron's death, Hermione finds her better half in someone a bit unexpected. But can pride and guilt allow a happily ever after?
1. Asleep

Disclaimer- Harry Potter belongs to J.K Rowling and Warner Bros.

Hermione's soft sigh echoed through the small room as she looked outside the window. As she had predicted, it was in fact raining once again. The perfect droplets of water rested on the window sill reminding Hermione of the restless nights she spent watching the rain back at Hogwarts. How long ago had that been? It felt like all eternity. Not like the weather mattered to Hermione now, seeing as she hadn't stepped outside the confinements of her own home in almost over a month. Two years ago, Hermione had lost one of her best friends in the war against Voldemort. She should have had been there fighting beside him, she should of died beside him, but he was alone. Now she felt as if she was floating through life, just barely getting by. When the anniversary of Ron's death came Hermione's first reaction was to shut herself away from the rest of the world for the third time.

Slowly getting up, Hermione walked over to the table nearby. Flipping through various unopened letters from family and friends she finally found the one letter that meant the most to her. Ron's last letter to Ginny. Actually the letter was meant to be a precaution, just in case something happened to him. Taking out the piece of parchment, Hermione skimmed over the hastily written words and wondered if Ron had been in a hurry while writing, if he had possibly known that he would not survive.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I don't know what's going to happen. But if anything goes wrong I want for you to promise me that you will make sure that everyone else is okay, including yourself. Hermione hasn't spoken to me in weeks. I don't blame her, but I need for you to take care of her. She deserves someone who will complete her. Don't let her make the grave mistake of not loving fully. Find her someone perfect, someone who will take her for who she is. I wish that I could be that man for her, but in the light of the events to come I can't be positive of what's in store for me._

_Love, Ron_

Tears swelled up in Hermione's eyes as she fought the urge to scream. How could she have been so cold hearted? She never allowed for herself to let go, to be free. She had loved Ron with her whole heart, and yet she had never told him. In a way it had been obvious that she was in love with him to everyone around them, but how could that possibly make her feel better? Hermione had known that Ron loved her, and yet she still blamed him for every stupid mistake that he had ever made. She couldn't get over herself before and now she had lost him forever. Ron had matured so much during the war, if only she would have given him a chance. If only she could have swallowed her pride. Hermione took a deep breath and thought back to the last memory she had of Ron.

_"Why can't you be a bit more appreciative?" screamed Hermione, pointing her finger at Ron._

_"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Ron screamed back, obviously getting defensive._

_"You know what! You think that you can just go fight and leave me here waiting, not even bothering to tell me."_

_"It's for your own good! You think that I want to see you hurt? I've seen how things turn out. I can't let you be a part of that."_

_"Oh please Ron, don't even try to give me that. I can protect myself, I want to help. How do you think I feel sitting here knowing that you and Harry are out there, especially when I'm supposed to be there fighting."_

_"I'm sorry Hermione, but I am not going to let you come with us. I refuse," declared Ron._

_"Then leave! Leave and don't come back until it's all over and done with, I can't take having you coming and going. It drives me insane, it breaks my heart," sobs escaped Hermione as she tried to contain herself._

_"Hermione, you know that I have to do this," justified Ron, walking over to Hermione and lifting her chin up so that she faced him._

_"I understand, but there can be nothing between us right now," whispered Hermione, as if breaking up whatever relationship they had._

The rest of the memory was filled with heartache, worry, tears, and regret. Hermione didn't exactly know why she chose to not be with Ron. Deep inside she had known that he was right. He was trying to guard her. Or maybe she had been afraid. Afraid of finally having Ron, but losing him to the war. How selfish. Had Ron died thinking that she had not loved him? Laying down Hermione pulled the covers over her, trying to block out any source of light. Sleep. She needed sleep.

But not even in her dreams could Hermione escape reality. She tossed and turned dreaming of Ron. Ron walking her down the aisle. Walking her down the aisle to marry someone else. A stranger with a blank face.


	2. Alive

Hermione's eyes fluttered open as she heard a loud knock on the door. She yawned and stretched her arms without getting up. Why would anyone bother to come see her? She had tried as hard as possible to ignore her close friends knowing that they would all pity her. But Hermione didn't need pity, she didn't need to see people glancing at her but looking away quickly. Judging her mental state as if she would go insane any second. After Ron had died, everyone around Hermione seemed lifeless too. But people moved on. Harry hadn't completely recovered from the war or the loss of his best friend, but he had Ginny. They could start their lives over. Together. Hermione on the other hand had nothing to look forward to. Groaning, she closed her eyes and wished that she could escape.

"Hermione! Open the door right now. It's me, Ginny," screamed Ginny, pounding on the door.

"I don't really feel like seeing anyone right now. Today is not a good day," mumbled Hermione.

"Yes well, it never is. But you have to get out of the house Hermione. Let's go have lunch. There is a great little place in Diagon Alley," pleaded Ginny obviously not willing to give up.

"That doesn't sound too good, I'm not hungry."

"Open the door Hermione."

It was a few seconds before Hermione stood up and walked across the room to the door. Taking a deep breath she let Ginny step inside. Ginny seemed to move faster than wind as she walked around, taking everything in. She ran her hand along a book shelf and sneezed.

"You need to do some major cleaning. I can stop by next week. Fix things up," encouraged Ginny.

"Right," responded Hermione running a hand through her hair.

"Well come on, get dressed."

"Look Ginny, I really do appreciate everything that you're doing but I don't want to go out."

"Hermione, I haven't seen you in ages. Everyone is worried, everyone has been asking about you. Harry tried to write to you. Look at least come out with me for the day so that I can report back to everyone," replied Ginny.

"Fine, I'll come for a couple of hours."

An hour later two young witches were walking down a narrow road, looking through the shops. Hermione made small talk but she refused to give away her emotions. It's not like she didn't talk to Ginny about her situation, after the accident happened Ginny stayed with Hermione for a while, they talked about everything, Hermione cried on Ginny's shoulder. But Ginny couldn't take care of Hermione forever, soon there was nothing more left to say. Rewind, rewind, repeat. That's all that Hermione could do.

"Hermione? Did you hear me?" asked Ginny looking slightly confused.

"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The new bookstore. Do you want to go in?"

"Yeah sure."

Hermione opened the door and immediately felt a bit better. The smell of new books was wonderful, it made Hermione feel like she could slip away and live her life through stories. She didn't even realize that she had wandered off until she found herself at the back of the store. There, up against the wall, Hermione saw a young man. He was sitting down with his head bowed, reading a tattered book. He seemed to have a certain vibe about him that told Hermione to stay away. She slowly looked away and pretended to flip through the first book she could find. For some odd reason Hermione wanted to comfort him, he seemed broken somehow.

"Surprised to see me here Granger?"

A shiver ran down Hermione's back as she turned around, already knowing what she would see. Draco Malfoy was now looking straight at her, piercing her with his hateful gaze. Was it hate? He looked tired, probably just as tired as Hermione. In fact it would have been almost hard to recognize him if it wasn't for that sly grin. Hermione hadn't seen Malfoy in over a year, she didn't care that he had turned himself over, confessed everything and helped the Order. He was probably a coward, nothing more. Jealousy spread through Hermione as she realized that Malfoy fought in the final battle. Her hands shook as she tried to calm herself.

"I see you still haven't changed Malfoy," chuckled Hermione.

"Oh a bit angry are we?" laughed Malfoy. He sounded far away, even a bit scared.

"You're scum Malfoy, I want nothing to do with you," stammered Hermione. Thoughts raced through her head as she thought of Malfoy, of all people, helping Ron. Maybe Ron had even appreciated it. She would never know. But Malfoy had survived, while Ron was gone forever. Did only the good die young?

Malfoy hesitated, but seemed to decide that what he had to say was worth it.

Almost as if he was fighting with himself he choked out "I uh, I'm sorry about Weasley."

Hermione stood, rooted to the floor. What did Malfoy know of loss? He had basically switched sides at the last minute, probably trying to save himself. And it's not like he even had true friends, he treated everyone like dirt.

"I don't need your condolences," whispered Hermione.

"Don't flatter yourself Granger. I was just saying that Weasley actually HELPED in the war. I know I know, I was surprised too. Anyway you know that I watched him die. Pity that you couldn't be there," hissed Malfoy.

A slap echoed through the store as Hermione's hand landed with Malfoy's face. She couldn't believe his nerve, how dare he? Hermione would have given everything to have had been there. He didn't even know. He couldn't possibly know. She wanted to tell him that she had loved Ron. That yes, she blamed herself every day for not getting to spend more time with him in the end.

"Malfoy? What did you do?" Ginny had appeared out of no where and was glaring at Malfoy while pulling on Hermione's arm.

"Little Weasley is it? Well actually I was just discussing the oh so horrible death of your brother."

"I don't have time for this Malfoy. Let's go Hermione," Ginny took Hermione by the hand and lead her out of the store. Ginny had always been very strong, she didn't let silly remarks get to her. She had stood up to Malfoy multiple times back at Hogwarts.

Hermione followed Ginny not caring about where she was going. She wanted to go back, to scream at Malfoy, to explain. Explain herself to Malfoy? Well now it was clear that she was definitely losing her mind. She didn't have to prove anything to Malfoy, he didn't deserve anything. Yet for a second he actually did seem sorry. However, that was really doubtful, and naive of Hermione to even think about. As Hermione walked along the street she couldn't help but notice how happy some couples looked. There, by a broomstick shop, stood a man and a woman with a little baby girl. They were laughing as the little girl jumped up and down pointing at a small toy broomstick. That could of been Ron and Hermione. Time didn't heal all wounds, that was just a lie. Time taught people to live with the hurt. After all, pain was only a pulse once you accepted it.

After dropping Hermione off back home, Ginny made her promise that they would fix up her place next week, and told her to not worry about Malfoy.

"He's a git Hermione. That's all," she repeated for the third time.

Then, once again Hermione was left alone. With nothing but thoughts to distract her. She walked straight over to her bed and laid down, back to the same old schedule. Soon she would have to go to work, but for now she could have her few moments of rest.

"Why did you leave me Ron? Why did I leave you?" questioned Hermione as she fell into deep sleep.

Again she dreamed of getting married to a stranger. Ron was happy for her, he wanted for her to move on. But Hermione wouldn't easily accept her fate. She tried to fight Ron, she begged for him to stay. But he kept on slowly fading away. Why would he do that? Hermione tossed and turned in her sleep for the rest of the night.

The next week came much too soon for Hermione, crashing over her. She had been hopeful that Ginny would forget about the plans that they made; after all Hermione had only remembered the day before. But she was sadly mistaken, and just as disappointed when she heard another loud knock on her front door.

"Oh thank goodness, I nearly thought that you weren't going to answer again," rambled Ginny as she walked through the dim corridor. "Honestly Hermione, I can't believe you let this place get into such a state. I remember when you first picked this house out, it was beautiful, lovely, the perfect place to start a- But of course this is nothing that a few spells can't fix. It is so dusty in here, how do you get along? Everyone has been asking about you again. Mum is begging to see you," Ginny continued talking, as if trying to cover up her slip up. Hermione stood rooted to the floor, it was too late. She had known what Ginny was going to say. This house had been the perfect place to start a family. Now it was a prison.

"Well I am sure that you can tell everyone that I am doing just fine."

"Hermione, please, listen to yourself, look at yourself. You can't hide here forever. When are you going to get a job? You were so ambitious, so talented, you still are. Harry and I will be perfectly happy to help you find a good position. You at least can't deny the fact that you need money."

"Yes I know, I know," repeated Hermione. This wasn't the first time that Ginny had tried to hold an intervention, and she wasn't the only one. Many of Hermione's other friends have told her the facts. Every time Hermione had said the same thing. She knew. Hermione wasn't stupid, being locked up in her own house did not suddenly make her illogical. But the mere thought of having to work, having to do something, seemed nearly unbearable.

"Listen, I know that you need more time, clearly, but you could start out slowly. Doing something useful might take your mind off things. Just think about it. Come over for dinner tonight."

Dinner at the Burrow. Two years ago Hermione would have accepted the offer without a doubt, now with each invitation Hermione could only picture Mrs. Weasley's face. A part of Mrs. Weasley was long gone and dead, a tiny part now rested with each of her sons. If Voldemort had split his soul into seven at the hands of murder, Mrs. Weasley had suffered a similar fate. Hermione couldn't imagine being near such grief, when her own would never measure up. Could she look into the eyes of the woman who had been her second mother knowing that she had hurt her son?

"You can't blame yourself," stated Ginny, as if she knew exactly what Hermione was thinking. "You had to do what you had to do, and so did Ron. He knows that you cared for him, I am sure that he understood your choice to not spend those last weeks with him."

"I was a coward."

"No Hermione, you were simply human. You can't let this guilt eat away at you. Ron fought in order to make sure that those who he loved would be able to lead a safe, joyous life. You fought too Hermione. If fates were reversed, I think that you would have wanted for Ron to move on, to live. Now what did you say about having dinner?"

Despite her unwillingness, Hermione finally decided to go to the Burrow. Dinner was spent catching up, everyone must have been surprised that she came, but no one showed it. Hermione was welcomed with open arms, and lots of hugs. She noted that Mrs. Weasley looked much better than the last time that Hermione saw her. She had a certain glow about her, a proud gleam. Harry described his job, the tasks that it involved, and Hermione listened, for once her mind at peace. After dinner she was pulled aside by Harry, who had obviously missed his best friend. Hermione was scared that the conversation would lead to Ron, for she knew that his death came as a shock to Harry as well, but Harry mostly talked about her. The quiet realization that Hermione had missed out on their lives came to her as she sat there.

When Hermione left that night, she felt something knew. Something that was so unfamiliar, that she couldn't say exactly what it was. Acceptance? As broken as she was, as everyone had been, they were all so alive, but not her. Everyone had loved Ron, what was so special about her? She needed to give him one last gift, the one thing that might make up for what she did in the past. She needed to learn to stand on her own two feet again, she needed to learn how to love once more.

It didn't take long for Hermione to put her plan into action. She quickly accepted a job offer at the Ministry of Magic, organizing files. It was a muggles job really, she knew that she could of done something much more interesting, but for now Hermione wanted something easy. She got ready for the first day of work with fear. It had been too long since she had had any contact with people other than the Weasley family. But her hair was washed and combed, she had on nice, clean robes, she was ready. Stepping into her fireplace, Hermione silently prayed that everything would work out okay as she said "Ministry of Magic."

She was greeted by a young witch, who directed her to the sixth floor, down a long corridor.

"Now, I know that you are just going to love working here! Mr. Malfoy, he will be working with you, is so generous, so handsome. But don't get your hopes up, he refuses to date anyone. It's as if women don't exist."

"Malfoy?"

This had to be a sick joke. Of all the jobs that Hermione could of picked, she had to pick the one that involved working with a person who hated the sight of her. Was this bad luck? Or a sign that Hermione was doomed.

"Draco Malfoy. Now just step through that door on the left and you will be in your new office. It's a pleasure to have you."

By the time that Hermione regained herself, the witch was already gone. Other people were rushing through, messages were flying all around, it was a busy day at the Ministry. Hermione had heard from Harry and Ginny that the Ministry was working very hard to gain back it's old reputation from before the war had started. There was still order to uphold, and Voldemort's supporters didn't just die with him. Hermione walked over to a door numbered 317, and stepped through. Inside were two desks, the room was well lit, there was even a large fake window with a fantastic view. One of the desks was empty, obviously waiting for her, the other was occupied by none other than Malfoy. He didn't look up, and showed no sign of having heard Hermione come in.

"Are you going to ignore me Malfoy? I thought that we were beyond that. Seeing as we are going to be working together, I think that it will be necessary to talk."

"Welcome Granger. You have decided to come out of your, what shall we call it, retirement after all. I'm glad."

"This isn't the time for your sarcasm Malfoy."

"That wasn't sarcasm Granger."


	3. Isabelle

Hermione, deciding that the conversation wasn't going anywhere, walked over to her new desk and sat down. She waited for Malfoy to say something else, something to bother her, or to further poke fun at her. However, he remained quiet and was already busy writing something down on a piece of parchment. Hermione's mind began to wonder as she stared at him. He looked much healthier, yet more reserved, just different. His hair fell, almost to his eyes; he didn't bother slicking it back anymore. His eyes were a piercing gray; full of mystery. But most of all, Malfoy was there and alive. Where was the justice in that? Ron had fought for seven years against Voldemort, just like so many others. But Ron was dead. Malfoy on the other hand, had a second chance.

"The files are in the first cabinet."

"Uh I'm sorry what?"

"Files, first cabinet, your job Granger?"

"Right, yes, job," thought Hermione, regaining herself. Malfoy had obviously caught her looking at him. Great.

The next few weeks flew by for Hermione, who was getting used to her new schedule. She worked every day, except for weekends, during which she often saw Ginny and sometimes the rest of the Weasley family. It was strange, having to live again. Ron was always on her mind, in fact she often talked to him, asking him what he thought about this or that. Soon Hermione began having fights with herself. Was it the right thing to move on? She was sure that some people never recovered from the pain of losing a loved one. But then again, it felt nice to have something to do, something to fill her lonely days.

Three weeks after Hermione had started her job, she figured that it was time for her to go to the book store. She never got to buy anything when she had gone with Ginny, and she had missed reading every day. It was on a lovely Saturday day that Hermione made her journey, slowly walking down Diagon Alley. The streets were just as lively as they had been before the war. Crowds were rushing by, colorful posters were hanging from every wall; the world was celebrating.

After arriving in the store, Hermione found a small deserted corner, and dove into the first interesting book that she found, all about household spells. While Ginny had them all down, Hermione, who never had the need to use them herself, was lacking in the area. Being lost in her own world, Hermione didn't notice that she wasn't alone.

"I didn't expect to see you here again."

Hermione jumped and looked up to see Malfoy, sitting about six feet away, with a large pile of books.

"Malfoy, I was just leaving actually."

"There's no need, I'm not here to disturb you."

"Of course not, yet you are always somehow here every time that I am," grumbled Hermione, clearly flustered.

"Just so you know Granger, I come here every week. Reading takes my mind off things, I thought that you of all people would understand."

"What things?"

The question had slipped out before Hermione could stop herself. She felt her face turn red, her palms began sweating. How was it any of her business what Malfoy thought? She had to admit, it wasn't as if she didn't want to know. She was curious, but also out of line.

"Just building my life back together, the war was devastating for all of us."

Hermione remembered that Malfoy's father was indeed sentenced to death, his mother was a nervous wreck. She had to say that it must of been hard. But then again when had Malfoy been the one to care? He cared about his reputation, and in a way he had tried to protect his family, but he did have the choice to swallow his pride and to step over to the good side much earlier. Yet talking to him, Hermione strangely found comfort in the idea that she wasn't the only one who still had problems to solve.

"Draco! There you are!"

A young, rather short witch was running over to Malfoy's side. She had long, blond, wavy hair. Her eyes were a sparkling green, and her smile seemed to light up the whole room.

"Isabelle, I was starting to worry. Oh um this is my old school mate, Hermione Granger. Granger, this is my friend Isabelle Greene," Malfoy shifted his feet and looked rather embarrassed to be stuck in this situation. But he did call Hermione by her first name, probably trying to look more respectable in this girl's eyes.

"Nice to meet you," said Isabelle stretching out her hand.

Shock went through Hermione's body. Isabelle was very pretty, very bright, nice enough, she was nothing like the other girls that Malfoy used to date. But was he dating Isabelle? Hermione kind of thought that he was single at the moment, he seemed to be at least. He did say friend, not girlfriend.

"You too. Well anyhow, like I said, I was just leaving," mumbled Hermione.

"Oh no! Why don't you come to dinner with us? I would love to get to know Draco's old friend from school! He completely refuses to tell me anything about his child hood, you know, it drives me insane."

"Well actually we weren't really-" started Hermione.

"I won't accept no for an answer. If you're really busy today, perhaps we can make plans for another day? What works for you?"

Was this Isabelle serious? Had Malfoy really kept so much information from her that she didn't know anything about his past? Odd, before Malfoy had always enjoyed an opportunity to brag about bullying people. Hermione glanced over at him, he was standing there, awkwardly staring at the ground. He looked so nervous, but Hermione had no idea why. Did he think that she would ruin his chances with Isabelle by telling her about his dark side?

"I would love to actually. Say, Wednesday?"

What! Did she really just say that? What was up with her today? Hermione reached up and felt her forehead. No, she didn't feel warmer than usual. However, she had just agreed to go out with Malfoy and his possible girlfriend. To do what? To discuss the amazing friendship that her and Malfoy had shared back in the days? On the other side of her, Malfoy looked just as shocked. He was glaring at Hermione, as if trying to silently ask her what she was playing at.  
>What a mess this was all going to be.<p>

"You agreed to go to dinner with Malfoy and some stranger? You filthy little hypocrite," laughed Ginny. "All this time, you have been avoiding the family, saying that you're not ready, and now you're off prying into Draco's life?"

Hermione and Ginny were sitting in Ginny's kitchen. Both women had large cups of tea in their hands, and seemed to be enjoying themselves. It was now Wednesday morning, and Hermione had invited herself over for some breakfast in order to share the news.

"Honestly Ginny, I don't know how it happened! I was just so taken back by the whole situation, I didn't know what to do, and this girl, Isabelle, I have absolutely no idea who she is. She certainly didn't go to Hogwarts, and she is so not Malfoy's type," pressed Hermione, trying to defend herself.

"Well suit yourself, Harry and I had lunch with Draco two months ago. He's not all that bad, well at least not anymore, but I can't say that I will ever fully like him."

"So he never mentioned an Isabelle Greene?"

"Not at all. Why are you so interested anyways Hermione?"

"I'm not interested! I could care less! Just you know, getting over Ron's death for the third time, it's hard, I need to stay focused."

"Ron died two years ago, you got over his death once, it was only the anniversary of it that upset you. Before you never needed a Malfoy to soothe your pain," giggled Ginny.

Hermione groaned and threw a pillow at Ginny, who ducked away. Laughter echoed through the room, and Hermione relaxed, taking the opportunity to change the subject. Malfoy, soothing her pain, what a joke.

Promptly at six that evening, Hermione began getting ready. She felt the need to look presentable, seeing as the last time that Isabelle saw her, she looked like a walking zombie. It wasn't as if she was trying to compete with Isabelle's beauty, but she just wanted to look like an independent strong woman.

Standing by her mirror, Hermione applied powder, blush, a tiny bit of eyeliner, and some soft pink lipstick. She had picked out a light blue dress, that flowed around her figure, and some little black pumps that not only made her taller, but also made her legs look longer. Her hair was down, and wavy, with the help of a simple spell. To finish it all off, Hermione put on some flowery perfume, and walked into her fire place.

"Hermione, so nice to see you again," screamed Isabelle, standing up to greet her.

Malfoy too, stood up, and looked at Hermione with a strange expression on his face. He didn't look angry, nor upset, thought Hermione. Maybe a little bit amused, yet still anxious?

"Well let's all sit down. I suppose proper introductions are in order? Granger, this is Isabelle Greene. Isabelle moved here four months ago from a small town on the outskirts of England. She was home schooled by her parents," looking up at Hermione, Malfoy seemed to think that more needed to be said and added "Isabelle went to America with her parents when she was fifteen, meaning, right when the war started."

Isabelle smiled, and leaned back in her chair, clearly, having Malfoy talk about her relaxed her nerves. Malfoy found Hermione's eyes are stared right into them, trying to say something. But what? That Isabelle was spared from the war? That she didn't know about Malfoy's involvement? That Hermione needed to keep quiet?

"And Isabelle, this is obviously Herm-"

"Now now Draco, let Hermione tell me herself. How did you two meet? I'm guessing during school? I feel like I missed out on so much, I've read all about Hogwarts you see, so compelling."

"Well um, yes, Mal- I mean Draco and I met when we were eleven. However, we were in different houses, there was a lot of rivalry..."

Hermione was trying to say as little as possible. She wasn't lying anyway, there was a lot of rivalry, everyone knew that. But she didn't know why she was trying to protect Malfoy, they had always been enemies. Yet, telling the truth seemed like the cheep thing to do. She didn't know anything about the way that Malfoy was now, and if he had truly reformed, then she wouldn't ruin his life.

"We had opposite goals. Hermione was the top witch in our year, while I had other things to do," whispered Malfoy.

"Other things? You're always so unspecific Draco," turning to look at Hermione, Isabelle continued "We've been seeing each other for almost two months now, and still I don't know anything about his family or friends."

So Isabelle was his girlfriend. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and played with her food. She was not going to give away any information. If Malfoy was ashamed of his past, then he needed to be the one to speak up. Wait. Malfoy, ashamed?


	4. Monster

Isabelle was now looking back and forth between Hermione and Draco, waiting for a reply. Hermione noticed that Isabelle was wearing a bright red dress that curved around her body, her hair was up in a bun and she had on matching bright red lipstick. She was being rather patient, thought Hermione, who was sure that Isabelle had been planning this moment for quite some time. However, right when Malfoy opened his mouth to speak, a waiter walked up to their table and gave Isabelle a letter.

"This just arrived for you by an owl Miss."

"Thank you," replied Isabelle, turning white. Her hands began shaking as she opened the letter and read out loud.

Sweetie,  
>Your mother is not feeling too well. Her condition has much worsened from last night. If you are not busy, I would appreciate it if you came home right away.<br>Love, Dad.

"Oh no, I'm afraid that I have to leave. My mother has been sick for almost a month now," she added helplessly. "Draco, you stay here and finish having dinner, it's not a big deal, I promise."

Before Malfoy had a chance to reply, Isabelle was already up, and walking away. She turned around, waved, walked into a vase, blushed, and disappeared behind a corner. Hermione remained seated, unsure of what this meant. Could she leave now? Was she supposed to? After all this whole dinner was Isabelle's idea, and Hermione couldn't picture her and Malfoy having anything to discuss.

"Thank you."

"Wait wait wait, what was that Malfoy?"

"I said thank you, for keeping your information to yourself. I haven't told Isabelle about...well you understand."

"Are you trying to fool her into thinking that you're some white knight in shining armor?"

"Who are you to judge me? I am myself when I'm with Isabelle, and that self if different from how I was. I'm not ready to let her into my life completely."

Hermione leaned over the table to get a closer look at Malfoy. He was being so honest, so open with her. But then again, what could he hide from her when she already knew everything. For Isabelle he wanted to be a better man, he didn't care about that with Hermione.

"She seems nice," said Hermione.

"She is nice, really nice. I don't want to screw things up with her. I don't know how she would feel if she found out that I helped Voldemort, that I was a murderer," Malfoy shuddered and squeezed his fork.

Hermione felt pity swell up in her. Instinctively, Hermione reached out and touched Malfoy's hand. He might have been a git, and a bully, but he was certainly never a true follower of Voldemort.

Snapping out of her trance, Hermione realized that she was in fact touching his hand. His hand for God's sake! Malfoy looked like he was thinking the exact same thing, and Hermione quickly pulled away.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that," whispered Hermione, turning red.

"It's fine," mumbled Draco, looking very embarrassed and put out.

"I'll go," proposed Hermione. However, she remained seated and looked up at Draco through her thick eyelashes, waiting for him to respond.

"Don't leave on my accord, stay. Let's have a bottle of wine."

Before Hermione had the time to process what happened, she was sitting with a tall glass of red wine in her right hand. Taking small sips she felt much better as a warm feeling spread through her chest. Draco remained quiet and Hermione expected that he was certainly bored. Isabelle was a talker, she brought the air of happiness into the room. Hermione was more of a listener, especially recently.

"I don't think that you should let your past rule over your present life. If Isabelle loves you then it shouldn't matter to her who you were," said Hermione.

"I am sure that she would accept me, but I don't know how to talk to her about what happened. I have tried to erase those memories from my head, bringing them up again would just make everything real," speculated Draco.

"Then wait until you are ready."

"I don't know if I will ever be ready to explain that I was a monster," laughed Draco.

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"Why? You would agree, you did agree," pressed Draco.

Hermione knew that he was right, or at least half right. She had never thought of him as a monster, but she did think that he was a git, and telling him that he was a good person would be a lie. Deciding to remain silent Hermione leaned back in her chair and relaxed. She didn't know how much time passed, but soon the sky outside was a shade of dark blue, and shortly after that her and Draco were the only remaining customers. No words were shared between the two, but both seemed at peace with not talking. It was nearly dawn when Draco suggested that they should get ready for work. They parted with a mere goodbye and went their separate ways. Hermione returned home and collapsed on her sofa, sinking into the cushions.


	5. A Visit

Hermione awoke with a startled realization that she did not dream last night. She searched her mind for any sign of having a nightmare but could not remember anything other than the hazy memories of the previous night that slowly came to her. She had never been much of a drinker, and her head was now starting to throb between her eyes. Groaning, Hermione looked up at the large clock that hung above her fireplace and realized that she had a mere hour to get to work.

Getting ready was no easy task, every move hurt, and everything seemed to take longer than usual. Hermione shook her head and decided that she would never again allow Malfoy to give her anything to drink. In fact, she would never again allow herself to remain in his company on her own free will, and for hours. Despite her best efforts, tears swelled up in Hermione's eyes. She thought again of Ron, and what he would think if he knew that Hermione had stayed with Malfoy until dawn. Feeling silly Hermione tried to focus her attention on getting dressed, looking through her closet for a pair of robes. However, she knew deep down what was really bothering her. It was so unfair, so unjust that Malfoy got to redeem himself, while Hermione was shut away. Even worse, it was all thanks to his family that Ron had begged her not to fight.

Nothing could erase the horrid day from her memory. The Malfoy manor. Bellatrix Lestrange using the Cruciatus Curse on her over and over again until she could hardly remember her own name. Ron's frantic screams somewhere in the far distance. Instinctively touching her throat with her slender fingers, Hermione still felt the faint trace of the scar that remained there. That day had sealed her fate more so than any other. Weak and shaken she had accepted the fact that Harry and Ron would leave her to finish their journey. She should have never agreed.

But none of it mattered now. Ron was gone. Bellatrix too, had died in the battle at the hands of Mrs. Weasley. Lucius Malfoy was eventually questioned and sentenced to life at Azkaban, although it was no longer guarded by dementors. But Draco...Draco and his mother had been pardoned.

Frowning, Hermione checked her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had not thought about the details of the war for so long. She had not considered the lives of others, and had given little attention to what had happened in the aftermath. Her only priority had been her loss, her pain, her constant battle to wake up every day to the memories of Ron's soft freckles and bright red hair. Of course she had known certain facts, had heard news from Ginny and Harry, but only now had the reality begun to sink in. The boy who had so often called her a Mudblood was living, while the boy she cared for so deeply was gone.

Resentment filled the pit of Hermione's stomach but she quickly pushed it away. She would not be like Malfoy, she would not be like a Slytherin. Hermione knew that she had the ability to forgive, the ability to accept that while Malfoy was an arrogant jerk he was also a product of his awful environment. She wondered briefly if he still considered her a Mudblood, but decided that the morning was turning out to be hard enough without the painful thoughts that she was allowing to plague her. Stepping into her fireplace Hermione uttered "Ministry of Magic," and disappeared with a quick pop.

It was another few minutes before Hermione walked through the door to her office. Malfoy was already there, sitting with his head down on his desk. He had a determined look on his face and was slowly rubbing his temples. Their eyes met and they both looked away clearly uncomfortable and both unsure of what to say.

"Good morning Malfoy," said Hermione, walking over to her desk and sitting down. "Listen, I want you to know that-"

"Granger, someone is here to see us," interrupted Draco.

"Sorry what?"

"Professor McGonagall, she arrived a few minutes before you. She would like to speak to both of us," muttered Draco.

"That would be Headmistress McGonagall."

Hermione jumped at the sound of the new voice and pulled her wand out. A woman had appeared at the door, as though she had been there all along. Blushing, Hermione quickly put her wand down and smiled. Minerva McGonagall smiled back, her face so much more worn than Hermione ever remembered it looking during school. Yes, the war and the time that passed since had definitely changed her once favorite professor.

"Good morning Mrs. Granger, it's nice to see you again. As I was telling Mr. Malfoy earlier I have a few things to discuss with both of you, if you could please spare me some of your time," said McGonagall waving her wand. A wooden chair appeared and she slowly sat down. It was clear that she did not have the same strength that she had once possessed.

Dark thoughts flooded Hermione once again and she suddenly realized that she had never made an effort to speak to any of the Hogwarts professors after the war was over. Guilt washed over her. She had not even spared a few moments to congratulate McGonagall on becoming headmistress. She knew of course that Hogwarts had remained closed for over a year after the final battle while it was remodeled, but she did not know much else.

"Professor, I mean Headmistress, I am so sorry that-" began Hermione.

"There is no need Mrs. Granger."

McGonagall held up her hand as if to stop Hermione from going on. Her eyes met Hermione's and Hermione saw with shock that she looked close to tears. However, beyond the pain that was reflected in the old woman's eyes Hermione also noticed a certain softness that she rarely saw from her strict role model.

"I do not have much time, so I would like to get right down to business," continued McGonagall. "I know that both of you have secured positions with the Ministry, but it is my opinion that your work could be put on hold while you finish your education."

Silence filled the room as McGonagall allowed her words to sink in. Finally, it was broken by Malfoy who looked rather confused, and stammered over his words.

"I did my seventh year. Hogwarts wasn't the same but I did my seventh year and the Ministry has agreed to overlook the fact that I did not take exams in the light of...the...the battle."

Hermione looked from Malfoy to McGonagall, unsure of what was happening. Could it be possible? Possible to go back to Hogwarts? She had always imagined finishing her education eventually...but she honestly wasn't sure if she could face the familiar hallways that would be haunted with ghosts, both real and imagined.

"I am aware of your situation Mr. Malfoy, this is certainly not a requirement,"McGonagall paused.

"However, the Ministry and I agree that students who attended Hogwarts during the year of the battle should be allowed to come back to Hogwarts if they wish to redo their year. Also," McGonagall turned to look at Hermione "Students who did not attend Hogwarts at all due to various circumstances are welcome back as well. Your old classmates will be given the same opportunity Mrs. Granger and Mr. Malfoy. You have a week to make your decisions."


End file.
